My words so helpless

I write this poem with a view to throw light on the lives of people and family members of those who were martyred in Pulwama terror attack.  Although, to my chagrin however hard i try, I'll never be able to feel and express the pain.


When I write down a bard for those martyred,

my hands shiver...

fearing my words won’t describe,

them and their valour.

The pain that they bore,

the gears that they wore.

My inability so sour,

can’t explain it anymore.

How would I express,

the void prayers of the wives

whose eyes would still look for those resembling figures

knocking at their door after fives.

How would I express,

the bereavement of the parents of those bravehearts

who have themselves seen

the wick go off, which they had lighted.

How would I express,

the obligation of the princess daughters

who’ll have to learn to fight this fact

The way their fathers did at the battle field.

How would I express,

the strength of the iron-clad sons

who got to put up with the responsibilities

much akin their fathers.

How would I express,

the pain of the siblings

for whom, the childhood memories

will no longer gift laughters but tears.

How would I express,

the grief of the country

who has lost its superhumans

and hence, their super powers.

My words so helpless,

can’t console those wives

 can’t cheer up those daughters

can’t pat the shoulders of those sons

can’t palliate the loss of those parents

and can’t fix up with the nation’s loss...

VEDIKA